Strange Currencies
by Stef
Summary: COMPLETE! Pre-3.14. She hated to admit it to herself, but she was mildly upset when her ex-boyfriend didn't suddenly resurface and make another attempt on her life. Men...
1. He doesn't even look sorry

**A/N: So I pretty much refuse to accept Elle's death. The seven stages and all that. Anyway, here's a fic idea that's been at the back of my mind all day today and so I thought I'd get it written up before I forgot about it. Please tell me what y'all think. Any C&C is appreciated!**

=-=-=-=-=-

She watched the recovered surveillance tape from the failed containment mission carefully. There had to be something on there telling her more than what she already knew. The subject had been shot several times with tranquilizers, was restrained from behind by some kind of garrote, and still managed to fight off the task force. In addition to being a pretty good fighter to begin with, his telekinesis helped a great deal.

It was when she saw the lightning shoot from his hands that she looked to her partner in shock. "Are you fucking serious?"

The bespectacled man only nodded.

"So not only is he not dead... but he's using MY fucking power?! This is bullshit! He doesn't even look sorry when he uses it. What an asshole!"

The older man sighed. His young partner had the mouth of a trucker sometimes. "What did you expect, Elle? Did you want him to mope around and carve your name into his victims' foreheads? Maybe spell out the word 'sorry' in brains?"

Elle bit her lips and refused to give in to the urge of punching Noah Bennet in the dick. It would have been so easy. He was standing at the perfect angle. Instead, she sat back further in her chair, eyeing her ex-boyfriend's savage display of fight or flight across six black and white surveillance monitors.

"Such a monster, huh?" Bennet asked, studying Elle's face.

After a brief silence, Elle replied, "After all the bullshit that's happened, I still can't bring myself to hate him. Is there something wrong with me?"

"I don't have time to answer that question. I gotta get ready for my flight. Petrelli's expecting me and-"

Elle waved her hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah. Go on ahead." She shut the monitors off and cracked her neck from side to side. "I'm gonna start looking through this list of Grays and try to whittle it down a bit to possible locales." She nodded over to the stack of papers on her desk. It looked like a damn manuscript.

"Drink plenty of coffee." Bennet suggested.

"I don't do coffee." Elle said, pointing to the 64 ounce Slush-O sweating condensation all over some old newspapers. "Good luck." She said, only half-meaning it.

"I'll tell Peter you said hello." Bennet teased.

"Fuck youuuu..." Elle sing-songed.

"Well, we didn't bring you back because you're an exceptional agent." Bennet said in her ear, causing Elle to shudder.

"No, you brought me back because Nathan knows I can control Sylar. Not because of that fling we had when Sandra was crazy and going through menopause." Elle snarked.

"Leaving now." Bennet said, grabbing his gun and heading out the door.

"Peace out, Girl Scout." Elle said as the door slammed.

=-=-=-=

**Meh, so I'm torn. I have places I wanna go with this, but I really need to know if I should bother. Does this engage you at all, gentle reader? Please review.**


	2. Agent Bishop: Deceased

As soon as Bennet left, Elle lifted her Slush-O and tossed the wet newspapers underneath it to the floor. She began to sip enthusiastically on the drink mostly comprised of corn syrup. She'd been looking forward to this all week long. "Finally alone!" Elle shouted into the Slush-O straw.

Where the newspapers used to sit, there was a manila folder with the word 'DECEASED' stamped across it in large, insensitive letters. Paper clipped to it were two photos of Elle; one of her facing forward, the other to her left. She frowned, examining the pictures. Her right side really was her better side.

She skimmed over the file, scanned past her childhood, the experiments (more like torture, she thought), her past field assignments. Things didn't get interesting until after her 'death', it seemed. Elle set the Slush-O aside and carefully read what she had missed out on.

_---_

_Assignment 2354: Catalyst Retrieval- Status: Aborted._

_Location: Costa Verde, California_

_Agent Gray: Rogue_

_Agent Bishop: Deceased_

_---_

_Assignment 2355: Corpse Recovery- Status: Accomplished._

_Location: Costa Verde, California; Hartsdale, New York_

_Agent Bennet: Successfully located & returned corpse of interest, injection sample from Munroe attempted, corpse reanimated_

_Agent Bishop: Revived_

_Agent Souvenir: Memory extraction complete_

_---_

_Assignment 2356: Detain All Specials- Status: Ongoing._

_---_

"Huh. So the Haitian has a name after all." Elle said out loud to herself. It must've been a real kick in the face for Bennet to be assigned to her resurrection. He was trying to kill her only hours before she died at Sylar's hands. Elle wondered why he went along with orders. When it came to personal vendettas, Bennet was all about breaking some rules. Probably wasn't a good idea to trust him. She decided to play it careful for now.

Elle reached across her desk and began to look through the endless folder of Grays. If Gabriel- Sylar was looking for his father, the best thing for the Company to do would be to find him before Sylar did. Although, Elle decided if the Company wanted her alive, it must be for a good reason. Was she brought back to draw Sylar out so he could just kill her again? Elle wasn't crazy about the idea of dying a second death. Once was enough for now.

After hours of careful sifting through the myriad files, Elle managed to make it look like she had it narrowed down to three possible men. One in Pennsylvania, one in Maine, and to make it seem a bit more realistic, she threw in one with a New York address. She knew from her previous experience as Bennet's partner that he hated the paper work end of things, often relegating it to her. Elle was almost confident that Bennet would trust her with these three candidates.

To be safe, Elle gathered four random files and slid them into her desk drawer. Things between her and Bennet were dicey enough, she'd be stupid to think he'd be stupid enough to trust her. with these files she placed in her desk drawer, Bennet would think she was hiding Sylar's true potential destination points.

Elle had to hand it to herself, this plan was almost bulletproof. She rewarded herself with a long sip from her Slush-O, the plastic spoon long abandoned for the straw. She tossed the quickly emptied plastic cup in her trash bin before standing up for the first time all day. Eyeing her desk with a sly grin, Elle walked out of the office, locking the door on her way out.


	3. Pretty Peter Petrelli

Elle knew this little act of defiance would probably get her fired, or even killed, but she needed to see Sylar again. Needed closure. Needed to fry his ass for killing her. And she knew just how to do it. Elle was going to make him come to _her_.

In her brief time as Sylar's Girl Friday, Elle learned things few to no others knew about him. For starters, he's a huge narcissist. She knew just the way to bruise his ego. Second, Elle and Sylar had one person in common neither of them could bring themselves to kill: Peter. She figured if she could make Sylar jealous enough, hurt him enough, she could make him pursue her easily enough. Getting to Peter would be the tough part.

For the better part of a week, Elle spent her afternoons looking for Specials with powers that were less than desirable. Bennet had been sent out to transport some sort of cargo for Nathan. Elle didn't really question why the top agent was being sent to guard some boxes because she wasn't paid to think. All that mattered was that he was out of her hair for a little while.

When she had what she considered a pretty pathetic list of losers, Elle decided it was time to start the dirty work. Armed only with her powers and scalpel she'd finagled from the lab, she punched out of work early, complaining of a toothache. Elle set out for the first of several lame powers.

=-=-=-=-

Philbert Eggertz really had no idea it was coming. He was at home, in his mom's basement playing World of Warcraft when Elle zapped the house's security system. He wasn't aware when Elle crept down the stairs, her high heels in one hand- scalpel in the other.

He wasn't really aware when Elle began to zap him, either. When Elle upped the voltage a bit, Philbert finally noticed something was amiss. He spun around in his chair and dove at Elle. He then opened his mouth, revealing a long, prehensile tongue.

"Guh..." Elle croaked. She knew it was going to be nasty, but she had no idea tongues could look so gross. The worst part, Elle later decided, was that the underside of his tongue had suction cups. _Double_ gross.

While Elle was momentarily stunned by his appearance, Philbert managed to tackle her to the cement floor of the basement. Elle kneed him in the balls, buying her enough time to give him a final zap before he fell unconscious.

Knowing this was going to get messy quick, Elle decided to hurry up and get it over with. She slid the scalpel across Philbert's forehead, not expecting the rush of blood that followed.

"Fuck!" Elle hissed. There was no way to be near the body and not step in the blood that now surrounded it. She ran back up the stairs and out the back door, slid her heels back on a block later, and decided to call it a night. She caught the first cab back to the Company and went to bed early.

=-=-=-=-

Elle was on her way down to her office the next morning when she saw Peter storm by, blinking back angry tears.

"What's wrong Peter?" Elle asked, grabbing him by the hand. "You look upset." If she were a gambling woman, she'd bet it had something to do with Nathan. When _didn't_ it, really?

Peter looked conflicted for a moment, like he wanted to tell her something was going on. "I just.... well, I lost someone on the way to the hospital today."

Elle knew right away he was lying. Peter may have been sensitive, but his body language was all wrong. He wasn't upset, he was straight up pissed off. "I'm sorry to hear that. Anything I can do to help?"

She thought Peter gave her a weird look, but that just might've been his lip-thing that he usually did. She could never tell. "No, I think I'm alright."

"Well, let me know if I can do anything. Or if you just wanna talk." Elle walked past Peter, toward her office. She was a few steps away when she turned around. "PSST!" She stage-whispered down the hall.

Peter turned around, eyebrow arched and mouth slightly drooped.

"I like that paramedic uniform on you." Elle flirted. "It's kind of hot." She purposefully let her eyes travel up and down his body.

Peter flushed before turning back away from Elle and continuing down the corridor.

Elle smirked. She could still make pretty Peter Petrelli blush.


	4. Only person to kill you

A few days after Philbert Eggertz was found dead with Sylar's calling card across his forehead, Elle decided to strike again. She hated to admit it to herself, but she was mildly upset when her ex-boyfriend didn't suddenly resurface and make another attempt on her life. Men.

At least she'd get to let off some steam after getting the brush-off from Peter all week. Elle couldn't recall when she'd been so unsuccessful at flirting with someone. She got better results when throwing herself at Claire, for God's sake. Was Peter asexual? Elle thought that could be the only reason Peter wouldn't return her advances...

Unless he already had someone he liked. Elle remembered a girlfriend Peter had in Ireland. Katie. Kathy or something. According to said girl's now-dead brother, Elle remembered that Peter and the girl were pretty serious. He hadn't seen her in months, however. Elle wondered if things fell through over the distance thing. She'd have to prod him about it later. At the moment, she had some work to get done.

=-=-=-=-

Keelie Gately was different from Elle's previous victim. Keelie wasn't repulsive and reclusive like ol' Philbert. Keelie liked to go out and dance and flirt and make guys buy her drinks. Keelie did have a stupid power like Philbert's, however.

Elle followed Keelie's slim silhouette under the colored lights of a dance club, into the bathroom. When Keelie entered, Elle taped a hastily written "Use other restroom, toilet problems" sign to the door. Everyone else at the club was more concerned with getting laid or drunk, so Elle was luckily unnoticed. She entered the bathroom and locked the door.

Her target was washing her hands when Elle walked in. "Hey." Elle said casually.

Keelie shrugged. "Yeah." She began to fix her hair.

Elle made a face. It was one thing to be anti-social, but it was an entirely different thing to be a bitch.

"So I saw you out there, you know. Dancing." Elle started.

"Uh-huh." Keelie touched up her lipstick.

Elle came closer. "I saw what you were doing. The lights don't fool everyone."

Keelie's skin immediately turned a dark orange. "Excuse me, I need to go."

"No, no... I wanted to show you." Elle said, stepping in front of Keelie. "I can do strange things, too."

Keelie nodded. "Yeah, but I bet its way better than being a human mood ring." She turned blue slightly. With a little bit of green.

Elle grinned. Predatory. "Oh you bet."

She released enough voltage into Keelie to give her an immediate heart attack. She then squatted over Keelie's body and dragged her into the handicapped stall on the end of the wall. She positioned Keelie's head over the toilet and pulled out the same scalpel she killed Eggertz with. Elle sliced quickly and carefully across Keelie's forehead, then shoved the other woman's head into the toilet. Way less blood that way.

=-=-=-=-

Elle was on her way to her apartment when she ran across Peter in the lobby. "Nathan's been gone for a few days. No one knows where he went. Senator stuff, I'm guessing."

Peter shook his head at the mention of his brother's name. Elle didn't know quite how to take it. The brothers Petrellis were weird. They were either hugging more than heterosexual non-incestual brothers should or trying to kill each other. Which was it this week?

"I'm not here to see Nate." Peter said, grabbing Elle by her arm. He proceeded to drag her to the lobby's front desk where the receptionist had responsibly abandoned her post to attend a round of Speed Dating. "I thought you needed to see this."

Elle peered over Peter's shoulder to the monitor and saw the headline "SERIAL KILLER STRIKES AGAIN: 2 VICTIMS IN ONE WEEK".

"Oh wow, a serial killer in New York." Elle said sarcastically. "What's so scary about this one? I can handle a sexually repressed psychopath."

"The way these two people have been killed... and what they have in common." Peter answered quietly. He opened a window for the Company's files. "Both victims were Specials, like us."

"So?" Elle acted as if she had better things to do. "People like us get killed everyday."

"It looks like Sylar did it." Peter told her.

"I thought he was looking for his father now?" Elle said, looking confused.

Peter shrugged. "Who knows how he works?"

Elle did. Knew all too well. She shook her head at Peter. "You don't think... given how close these murders are..."

"You think he's looking for you?" Peter asked, humoring her. "Hardly. He doesn't even know you're alive."

Elle bit her lip. It was true, Sylar really had no idea Elle was alive. It would be all the more satisfying when he did come for her, though. Getting one up on Sylar was a rare treat for anyone, let alone his bitter ex. "Must just be my wishful thinking." She said, sounding a little disappointed.

"Oh come on, Elle!" Peter grabbed her hands. "Do you really think if he was looking for you, he'd just want to talk? He'd kill you again in a second."

"I can protect myself. He doesn't scare me at all." Elle said. She was only half-lying.

"That's why you need to be protected from him." Peter insisted. "The fact you're not afraid of him makes you cocky."

"Well, you're pretty cocky yourself. Even without your powers, Peter." Elle said, hoping to hit a nerve. "I'm not Claire. I don't need you to follow my every step."

Peter let go of Elle's hands. "First of all," he stood up and blasted the computer's monitor. "I never said I don't have my powers anymore."

Elle's eyebrows rose, impressed. Peter wielded her electricity better than Sylar ever did. "And second?"

"Keep Claire's name out of your mouth."

Elle rolled her eyes. "Either way. I don't want your protection. Besides, who cares if he kills me again? It took a few days before someone even noticed the first time. No one even recovered my body until a week later! From the dump! Besides..." She began to fake cry a little. "If he doesn't love me anymore, what's the point? He was the only good thing I had to begin with. He was the only person to help me without expecting anything in return, only person to really care about me... only person to make love to me."

"Only person to kill you, too." Peter quietly reminded her.

Elle wiped her eyes, smudging her make-up a little bit. "I hate feeling like this... Is this what it felt like when you and Katie broke up?"

Peter looked confused. "Katie?"

"You know, in Ireland." Elle said. "When I was looking for you, killed her brother. Her."

Peter was quiet a moment, guilt coming over his face. "Caitlin. Yeah. It was a little hard for a while." He left out the part about leaving her in a hellish future to be forgotten about.

Elle sighed. "So what do I do? Just wait for him to come find me?"

"Like I said, Elle. You probably have nothing to worry about. He's not even aware you're alive. I doubt he's looking for you."

Elle pretended to take comfort in Peter's words. "You're right. I'm just being paranoid." She suddenly hugged him. Tight. "Thank you. It felt good to vent."

Peter, bewildered, put his arms around Elle. "You're welcome."

"Gonna head home now." Elle said, pulling away. "I'll see you around, Peter."

Peter waved, electricity crackling between his fingers.

Elle waited until she was a few blocks away to pull out a piece of scrap paper from her jacket. She was growing impatient, and Peter was right. Sylar had no idea she was alive. Victim number three was gonna get a little something extra.


	5. Do you still want me?

It was a lot of work, Elle decided, to get people to think the way you want them to. It was also very stressful. This was probably why Angela Petrelli looked the way she did. She couldn't have been older than sixty, but she looked a bit older than that. Worry lines were _never_ attractive. Elle began to smile a lot more that morning. Working her facial muscles was a sure way to prevent wrinkles.

She was on her way home from her latest target; Troy Durant, a college frat boy who possessed the ability get anyone he'd wanted to sleep with him. Elle almost felt bad for the kid. He definitely thought he had Elle where he wanted her; on her hands and knees, skirt pulled up around her belly. She didn't even warn him when she reached between her legs to grasp at him. She simply shocked him, sending enough voltage through his dick to char it before he was even dead.

Elle sighed and readjusted her clothes. The messy part was never the fun part. She couldn't understand why Sylar was still stealing powers the messy way when he had mastered the empathic way with her. She decided it must have been more satisfying.

To get this murder more attention, and to possibly show Sylar she was still around, Elle put on her victim's winter gloves and used his blood to write on the dorm wall. It was a message, practically a dare. This would peak Sylar's interest, she was sure.

When she left the room, Elle glanced over her shoulder and smirked. Not only would this get his attention, he'd _definitely_ know it was her. She left the Troy's door slightly ajar as she crept to the window her horny victim had left open for her.

'DO YOU STILL WANT ME?' was written in blood over Troy's dead body. It could easily be misconstrued as a jealous ex-girlfriend doing the deed. Troy had slept with a lot of girls with the aid of his power. Elle hoped it would look to Sylar like she had not only slept with Troy, but felt Sylar needed Troy's power to get anyone to have sex with him. _Double burn_.

The sun had yet to rise, though it was technically morning. Elle encountered no one on her short walk home, showered, and ate a breakfast of Belgian waffles before heading to work.

=-=-=-=-

"Good morning. You're awfully early." were the last words Elle expected to hear when she entered the office. Noah Bennet sat at his desk, looking over the files he took from the top of her desk.

Elle hung her coat and sat down, watching Bennet study the files. "I was up early and decided to come in. It's not like there's anything to do at seven in the morning anyway." She leaned forward to turn the computer on, eyes not leaving Bennet's face. He seemed satisfied with the job she had 'done' while he was gone. "So what do you think?"

"They all seem like plausible locales." Bennet answered, setting the folders on his desk. "None of them are correct, though."

"_What?_" Elle feigned surprise. "I was so sure about the taxidermist."

"Look, I need you to check harder through the rest of the files." Bennet said. He sounded like her boss. Elle knew in a way he was, Nathan certainly didn't partner them up because he felt they made a good team. It was clear no one trusted her. With good reason, she supposed, but this was a little overboard. She was still trying to find Sylar... just in a different way. And for different reasons.

"_More_ desk work?" She pretended to complain. In truth, she didn't mind all the down time and Slush-O breaks. It helped her to complete her own objectives.

"You knew the deal. No field work until after we catch him." Bennet said sternly. He sounded like a father. No dessert until your dinner's finished. She hated fathers now. Especially her own. If he weren't dead, she might have set out to kill him herself.

"Fiiiine." She said with a sigh. "You know, you were a lot more fun when you didn't have that stick up your ass."

"And _you_ were a lot more reliable before you let Sylar between your legs." Bennet retorted.

Elle zapped Bennet's coffee cup, sending hot coffee all over his lap. Not quite a punch in the dick, but it would suffice for now. She enjoyed watching him scramble out of his chair for something to wipe his pants off with. Even Noah Bennet could still be caught off guard.

=-=-=-=-=

That evening, Elle practically ran to the elevator. It was Friday night and all Elle wanted to do was go home, take a long, hot bath, and maybe watch the rest of the True Blood episodes stored on her DVR. She thought about what Bennet said, with her letting Sylar between her legs, and punched the 'Ground Floor' button a little harder than she'd intended.

When the elevator doors opened, Elle came face to face with Peter. She was beginning to wonder if he _lived_ in the lobby. He certainly showed up there enough.

"Hey, Peter." Elle said, smile growing on her face. Peter, with his big trusting eyes and gentle demeanor made Elle feel like a predator. She loved it. "What's up? Come by to keep me company?" She wound her arms around Peter's waist and looked up at him.

Uncomfortable, Peter didn't know what to do with his hands. He slid one hand into his back pocket and pulled out the newspaper article he was keeping there from that morning. He dangled it in front of Elle's face. When her grip on him slackened, Peter tried not to sigh in relief. "I came by to warn you. Sylar's killed again. This time he left a message for you."

Elle studied the photo, pretending to see the scene for the first time. She controlled her facial features, not smiling when she saw her message to Sylar on the wall. 'DO YOU STILL WANT ME?' What a scene she left. She pretended to look worriedly at Peter. "This looks-"

"Looks like he was trying to get your attention after all." Peter rubbed her shoulders, trying to comfort her. "Sorry I doubted you."

Elle shook her head. "Peter, I'm scared." She really felt sometimes that she had missed her calling as an actress. She tucked her blond head under his chin and clung to him. "Can you walk me home? _Please_?"

Peter stroked her back and rested his chin on her head. She was so tiny and helpless. Wasn't she? "Sure." He let go of her and they walked the short distance to Elle's apartment.

They had barely made it in the door when a low voice startled them.

"Of _all_ people, Elle; Peter?"

Elle dropped her purse on the floor. "Ga-" She stopped herself. She couldn't even say his name anymore. "S-"

"Elle, get back!" Peter said, shoving her toward the door.

Sylar slammed the door shut with his telekinesis, then forced both of them to sit down on the floor. He stood up and began to pace. "First that college kid, and now _Peter_? Who else have you been with?"

"What the fuck do you care? You lost your privileges to my body when you fucking _KILLED ME!_" Elle began screaming. "Why did you do it?! Why did you need to kill me!? You never killed Maya or Mohinder or anyone else who was stupid enough to trust your crazy ass."

Sylar knelt by Elle so he could look her in the face. "You lost your privileges to my trust when you _lied_ to me." He raised a finger at her and pressed it against her forehead.

Elle closed her eyes and drew in a shaky breath. Sylar was using her words against her again, talk about deja vu. She supposed there was no point in fighting it. She accepted that she was fated to be killed by her crazy boyfriend no matter the scenario.

Instead of killing her, Sylar pushed Elle's head back a little as he poked his finger against her forehead. "I don't need anything in here, anymore." He lightly tapped her forehead again before standing up to look down at her. "And you _knew_."

Elle raised both of her eyebrows. "Knew what?"

"You knew the Petrellis weren't my parents." He accused. "You knew Peter and I weren't brothers."

Peter, as if to remind everyone he was still there, coughed.

"Of _course_ I knew. I know your entire file inside and out." Elle confirmed. "I can tell you who your family members are, what your blood type is, where you went to school and the dates, every time you've been sick, arrested, or gotten a parking ticket, every place you've lived, every phone number you've had-"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sylar said, the vaguest hint of desperation in his voice.

"It's on a need-to-know basis." Elle said evenly. "Same with my file. Only instead of _killing_ anyone, I decided to just steal it and read it for myself."

Sylar shook his head, not trusting his lie detector ability when it didn't tingle. "Not your style. You'd rather torture information out of someone."

"All I said was that I didn't _kill_ anyone." Elle corrected. "And if you think you're the only one pissed about not knowing anything in the need-to-know section of your file, you're dead wrong. I found out about things my Daddy had tested on me that I wouldn't wish on anyone." She spat the word "Daddy" out like it was poison.

Sylar's eyes softened minutely. If she read his entire file, then she knew what he was looking for.

Peter took advantage of the moment and blasted Sylar with a blinding arc of electric light. He watched as the serial killer hit the floor, dead for the moment. "Let's go, Elle!" Peter shouted as he stood up, Sylar's telekinetic hold on him eased for the time being.

Elle hesitated. "But I need to-"

"He's going to kill us if we don't leave! Come _on_!" Peter pulled at Elle's arm, coaxing her to stand up.

She stood on shaky legs; not exactly sure what to do now that she had Sylar where she wanted him. Elle hadn't really planned that far ahead. She let Peter drag her to her feet, then out the door of her apartment. When she looked back, Sylar was still unconscious on the floor.


	6. I dont have to promise you anything

They were in the subway before they stopped to catch their breath. Elle rested her back against the stone wall, panting, watching Peter try to even his breathing as well. He was bent over, his hands steadying his knees. When he stood up straight, he eyed Elle curiously.

Elle hated how Peter's dark eyes reminded her of Sylar's. "What?" she asked.

"This was all on purpose, wasn't it?" Peter on the offensive. How deliciously different. "The killings, getting close to me, Sylar at your house? You planned it all."

"Not _all_ of it." Elle argued. "I definitely didn't plan on Sylar being at my house. I thought he'd come find me in a neutral, public setting."

"There are no neutral settings to him, the man's a killer!" Peter hissed. He then added "And so are you." as an after thought. "I should turn you in to Bennet. He'd know what to do with you better than I would."

Elle immediately backpedaled. "C'mon, Peter... do we really wanna involve ol' Glasses in this? This is between Sylar and me."

"And _me_, thanks to you!" Peter said, shoving her roughly.

Not expecting Peter to raise a hand to her, Elle zapped him in the chest. "Don't you fucking hit me, you pussy."

Peter returned her fire, blue electricity shooting past her head by centimeters. It singed the ends of her long hair, making it smell awful. "I'm pretty sure you can handle it."

Elle examined her hair, then eyed Peter. "My hair, Peter? Of all the places to zap me, you zap _my hair_?" He really was a pussy, she supposed.

She volleyed a ball of lightning at Peter strong enough to black out an entire block. He hit the cement with a crunching noise, breaking a bone or two as he fell. Elle ran past him for the stairs, stopping to kick Peter in the stomach on her way. "That's for my hair." She muttered.

Elle walked the three blocks from the subway station to her apartment, taking her time and checking her reflection in the store windows. She wasn't expecting Sylar to break into her apartment, though in hindsight she probably should have. It excited her a little to think he was jealous of Peter. She'd have to find a way to use that to her advantage later. And if he was jealous, that meant he still had some feelings for her.

Despite her little exchange with Peter, everything was working in her favor. Until she opened her apartment door, anyway.

Sylar grabbed her by the wrist and spun her so her back was against his chest. He held her there, ignoring the strong current of electricity flowing through her body. She felt his hot breath against her ear and neck, heard him inhale deeply, felt the tickle of him exhaling. She was terrified and a little aroused.

"Do you want to tell me," Elle felt, rather than heard "What you're doing alive?" Sylar's tone was more curious than angry. "Keep in mind I've paid Sue Landers a visit."

Elle completely forgot who the fuck Sue Landers was. Name sounded familiar, so she must've been a Special. She decided to tread lightly. "I don't know. Last thing I remember we were making out, next thing I know Nathan's hovering over me in a lab."

"Nathan Petrelli?" Sylar asked, his grip slackening.

"Do you know any other Nathans?" Elle asked, turning to face him. She tried not to relish in the confusion on Sylar's face. Her eyes followed him across her kitchen. He was pacing again. She decided he must've been using his power- his _original_ power to understand why Nathan would want her alive. Maybe it was best to distract him. She didn't want to end up dead again.

"Does he really think he can contain me if you're alive?" Sylar asked out of the blue. He slowly crossed the distance between them.

"He hasn't spoken to me since he had me injected with Adam's blood." Elle answered. Why all the 'yes' or 'no' questions? She tried her hardest to remember Sue Landers' ability. Something passive, she was sure.

Sylar was quiet for a moment, clearly thinking of something. "You really know who my parents are?"

Elle nodded. "I do."

He was silent another minute before demanding, "Tell me."

Elle smirked. "No." She enjoyed the shocked expression on his face before saying "If I give you what you want, you have no use for me. Then it's 'Curtains for Elle: The Sequel'. Thanks to you. _Again._" She hoped it stung, even if it was just a little.

Sylar shrugged. "Maybe I'll just kill you anyway." He raised his finger in the same, familiar gesture.

"Wait!" Elle shouted, a last ditch attempt to save her own life. "I won't tell you... but I _will_ show you."

Sylar arched a thick eyebrow in interest. "We'd best get going, then."

=-=-=-=-

"Well, this is it. We're here." Elle turned away from the building to face Sylar. His expression was unreadable. She just hoped he believed her.

"Wasn't this a school in the eighties?" He asked, already knowing the answer. He grew up in the area; of course he knew it was a school.

Elle nodded. "Nathan based us out of this building as a cover for the company. Since you know, you burned the other one to the ground."

"I was dead at the time. It was little Claire-Bear's mommy that burned the building down." Sylar responded, walking past Elle to the front door. When he pulled on the handle, it didn't budge. He tried pushing it, also with no luck.

"Handles have fingerprint registers on them." Elle supplied. "Nathan must've decided to spend the few extra dollars to tighten security... which will mean tons of cameras, of course."

"I want them to see me." Sylar said, grabbing Elle's hand and closing her fingers around the door handle.

"Well, I _don't_ want them to see me!" Elle said, struggling as Sylar opened the door with his hand over hers. "If anyone sees these tapes I'm fired for sure."

"Your job or your life? I really don't have all night."

Elle could see he wasn't joking. With a reluctant sigh, she led him to the elevator. "Follow me."

He trailed behind her to the elevator, watched her slide a key card and punch in some numbers. He eyed the woman he was in love with less than a month ago and nudged her. "You seem nervous." Sylar dryly remarked.

"I'm not." Elle lied.

Sylar smirked. "Better not try anything stupid, Elle."

"You wanted your file, I'm going to get it for you..." Elle began. "But in exchange, you have to promise you won't kill me."

"I don't have to promise you anything." Sylar said, advancing on her.

Elle backed against the elevator door, wishing they'd get to their floor already. The look on Sylar's face terrified and excited her. Being attracted to dangerous, powerful men always had been her downfall. She watched him raise a hand and instead of making that awful slicing motion through the air, he placed it against the door by her head.

"What are you doing?" Elle whispered. She tried to look everywhere but at his face. She knew what she'd see there. She knew she wouldn't be able to resist. Elle slid her eyes shut, feeling Sylar exhale against her mouth.

"Taking what I want." He replied. Sylar's mouth descended on Elle's, his raw need poured into the kiss. It was sloppy and hard and when Elle's tiny whimper escaped against his lips, he deepened it further.

It was Elle who pulled away first. She stepped back as the elevator doors slid open, having reached their floor. She rubbed a shaky hand across her mouth. "I don't want you to ever, EVER do that again." She spun on her heel and led the way to her office.

She missed the self-satisfied grin on Sylar's face as he taunted "Liar" behind her. She wasn't about to rise to his bait as she unlocked her office's door, leaving it open for him to follow her inside. "So how did you manage to get into all these Special Files?" Sylar asked, looking through the mess on Elle's desk. A lot of familiar names were printed across the tabs including Nathan's, Peter's, Nakamura's... all but Elle's.

"I'm not sure." Elle said, handing Sylar his personal file. "But I have access to everyone's information. A bizarre position for someone with dubious loyalties, but there you have it. I suppose with Bennet watching me, Nathan figured it was safe to let me at all these files."

Sylar absorbed this information, the gears turning quickly in his mind. Elle used to want to know what it was like to be able to understand everything, but now she knew better. She didn't even bother asking him what he was thinking. She was still alive at the moment, but the slightest misstep could end that fact in a second.

"They're babysitting you." Sylar said quietly.

"Babysitting me?" Elle asked. "You mean this is just a sneaky way of keeping me a _prisoner_?"

"Keeping a really long leash on a vicious pet." Sylar confirmed. "Like one really big experiment."

Elle's eyes narrowed. She wasn't about to be tested on again. Her temper flared. "They told me no more experiments. They said as long as I worked for them, as long as I did what I was told, they'd keep me alive."

"You just don't understand it. They gave you this on purpose. They knew from the get-go what you'd try. They knew you'd want to find me, for revenge or whatever reasons you have. They don't think you've reformed. They know better than that." He tilted her chin as to force her to look him in the eye. "They found a way to use you, _too_." Sylar shook his head, a bitter smile tugging at his mouth. "Why do you listen to the Petrellis? If I learned anything from our time together as partners it was definitely to not trust these people."

Elle bit her lip. She didn't know how many times she could handle being used, manipulated, and lied to. Grabbing Nathan's, Peter's, and Bennet's files in one hand, Elle blasted her computer tower. She then flung open all the file cabinets' drawers.

Sylar watched curiously as the blond woman began to throw manila folders to the floor. "These are offensive powers." Elle informed him before walking across the room to the cabinets on the opposite wall. She did the same thing there, throwing folders onto the floor. "And _these_ are passive and defensive powers."

Large, dark eyes- killer's eyes scanned the floor. There was, literally, a buffet of powers on the floor before him. And one of his more significant victims serving it to him. To refuse her would be downright rude.

Elle watched Sylar kneel carefully and collect an arm full of the folders. His eyes never left hers, expecting her to attack him while he was on he floor. It never happened.

Killing the silence, Sylar asked the blond "Where is your file, Elle?"

"Safe." Elle replied. "You don't get to read it."

"Don't want to." He said.

It hurt a lot more than Elle expected it to. That's okay. She could play that game, too. "Then why ask?"

"Expecting _lies_, mostly."

It suddenly dawned on Elle what Sue Landers' ability was. What a weird power to covet. To each his own and then Sylar's own, she supposed. "I think I already learned what happens when I lie to you." She slid her index finger across her own forehead. "I'm not stupid enough to make the same mistake _twice_."


	7. The only person I want to help is myself

Elle walked out the front entrance of the former school, files in hand. She left Sylar in the office to pick and choose whatever powers he wanted. Deciding she didn't want him to think it was okay to follow her home, Elle began the short journey back to her apartment.

She was half way home when she heard footsteps rapidly approaching her from behind. Elle didn't even bother turning around. She knew who it was.

"What do you want from me _now_?" Elle asked, keeping her eyes ahead. She wasn't about to let him pull the same stunt he did in the elevator.

"Are you sure those are _all_ the files in the company?" Sylar dared her to lie.

Elle tried not to smile. "Those are all the Special files I'm in charge of." It wasn't a lie. Just _some_ of the truth. She was in charge of a few Normal files as well.

"Growing to be thirty feet tall? Elastic limbs? Breathing under water?" These have to be the worst powers of all time." Sylar complained. "I was expecting abilities like super strength and making stuff explode, not being able to talk to fish."

"I know." Elle acknowledged, climbing the steps to her front door. "Don't forget the company already thinks you're stealing other lame powers... prehensile tongue, color changing... sexual persuasion."

"Great. So Bennet's out looking for a horny chameleon?" Sylar didn't sound amused.

"It appears that way." Elle stepped inside the building. "I really did you a favor if you think about it." She walked down the hallway to her apartment, Sylar still following. Elle didn't bother telling him not to- if he wanted to follow her, he was going to. "Now they don't know what to expect from you."

"Sounds more like you were trying to make an ass of me." Sylar accused.

"Maybe a little bit of that, too." Elle unlocked her door and stepped inside. She toed off her heels and turned around to look up at him for the first time since they left the office. "Are you coming in?" She didn't want her neighbors to think she made a habit of letting serial killers loom outside her door.

Sylar walked past Elle and sat himself at her kitchen's bar-style counter top. "So why do you want the company to think I have these stupid powers?"

"To have them over-prepare for new, stupid powers, and forget about the other ones you 'already had'. When I studied your file, I noticed a pattern. After obtaining a power from someone, you tend to use it a lot- especially the offensive ones." Elle got a kettle ready to make some tea. "Right now they probably think you're going to turn up somewhere and try to kill someone with your freaky frog-tongue... or turn different colors to blend into your surroundings... or use your charming power to fuck your way through any agent that tries to apprehend you."

"I think you know better than anyone that I don't need an ability to accomplish _that_." Sylar suggested as he raked his eyes over Elle purposefully.

Elle rolled her eyes. "Don't flatter yourself. I was dead less than twenty-four hours after I slept with you the _first_ time." He almost looked hurt. Good. "And like I said, I don't make the same mistake twice."

"Sleeping together or not," Sylar began, digging through Elle's cookie jar without her permission, "I can't seem to figure out why you want to help me." He pulled out a big chocolate and butterscotch chip cookie.

"The only person I want to help is _myself_." Elle slapped his hand and put the cookie back. "After I read through my file, the last thing I wanted was any 'help' the Company offered me. I knew they had used the Haitian to erase my memories to make me forget all about the tests and experiments, but I never knew the extent of them."

"What was the extent?" Sylar asked, curious as ever.

"The extent was none of your business." Elle bit out. "All you need to know is that I hate them just as much as you do." Her statement was punctuated with a roar from her stomach.

Sylar's eyebrow shot up. "Hungry too, Elle?"

Elle scowled. "Hope you like leftover lasagna." She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a foil pan.

"I thought you said we were having lasagna?" Sylar asked, the accusatory tone not going unnoticed by Elle.

"We are." Elle confirmed, holding up the tray with the Pizza Hut logo emblazoned across the lid like a scarlet letter.

"You don't _buy_ lasagna. Especially not from _that_ place. It's not Lasagna Hut." Not that he bothered to order pizza from Pizza Hut, either.

"Well, Mr. Food Snob, you don't have to eat it." Elle set the tray in the oven to reheat it. "But it's all I got at the moment."

Sylar raised his hand and watched as all the empty cabinets in Elle's kitchen flung themselves open. His lip curled in disgust. "You live on take-out, don't you?"

"Well, I don't have much time to cook." Elle defended herself.

Sylar smirked. "Lying."

"I just don't really know what I'd make if I had the ingredients-" Elle corrected.

"Still lying." Sylar teased.

"How does that stupid lying power of yours work anyway?" Elle asked, frustrated.

"It kind of tingles a little bit in my ears when it knows I'm being lied to." Sylar replied, pointing to his ear.

"Ah." Elle said. She had an idea. "Well, what if someone lied to me, but I thought it was true, and in turn I ended up telling you a lie, thinking I was telling you the truth... would your Truthiness Tingle work then?"

"That sounds complicated." Sylar admitted. "I've never been in an instance where that has been the case. Why? What are you planning?"

Elle took a deep breath. It was about time she knew the truth, if in fact Sylar's stupid power worked. "Bob Bishop loved me."

Smirk gone from his face, Sylar avoided Elle's eyes.

"What?" Elle demanded. "Did your Spidey Sense tingle? Was I lying?"

The timer on the oven chose that moment to go off, alerting Elle that her lasagna was sufficiently re-heated.

"Well?" Elle asked again.

"The oven-"

"Fuck the oven, Gabriel! Did my dad love me?" Elle didn't notice she had slipped and used Sylar's real name. The name she originally knew him by.

"No." Sylar said quietly.

"That's all I wanted to know." Elle's voice cracked slightly, her eyes glazed over. She took off her oven mitts and threw them on the counter in front of Sylar. "Here, you can take what you want. I'm not hungry anymore." She walked past Sylar toward her bedroom and sat at the edge of her bed, peeling off her socks.

Sylar stood in the doorway of her room, not crossing the threshold. "You're just going to go to bed? With me in the house?"

Elle shrugged out of her blazer and tossed it to the floor. "I'm not afraid of dying," she told Sylar. "I've been dead before. It's nothing." Literally, she mentally added.

Sylar watched as Elle stalked across the room to stand behind her closet door. Her shirt hit the floor, then her skirt. "I can't guarantee you'll survive the night."

"OK. Good night," Elle emerged from behind the closet door in a white camisole and tiny shorts.

"You're not even going to fight me?" Sylar didn't look like he was even in the mood to fight.

Elle walked over to the doorway. She looked up at Sylar like she might've considered his offer and instead shut the light off. "Why bother? My father wouldn't have missed me even if he were alive, I don't think he even LIKED me- between everything I was made to forget, everything I learned..." Elle tried to steady her voice as she climbed into the bed. She looked ahead at Sylar's silhouette, continuing. "I have no one who would care if I died. And it's certainly not like I have a job to go back to. After they review the security tapes tomorrow of me letting you inside, I'm as good as fired or dead anyway."

"Elle." Sylar quietly protested.

"Just let me go to bed." Elle insisted. "I'm so tired."

"I'll clean up when I'm done." Sylar said, then shut the door.

=-=-=-=-

**A/N: I'd love some C&C. Am I keeping people in character? Is this story getting boring? I noticed a severe drop in reviews, but I know **_**someone's**_** got to be reading. I'm not 100% sure where I want to go with this fic from this point. Any ideas are really appreciated.**


	8. Pretty much only one arrangement

When Elle woke up in the morning, there was a short note written on the back of an envelope telling her "_Go to work. -G_". She wasn't sure what to make of this, wasn't sure why she even should go to work, given the damning evidence the security cameras would provide, wasn't sure where Sylar was; things could only get worse from here, so best not to dwell on it, she supposed.

A short walk and subway trip later, Elle stood outside the burning remains of the company's secret headquarters. She navigated through police and firemen to her boss- he didn't look pleased.

"Senator, what's happened?" Elle asked, putting on her best worker bee persona.

Nathan regarded Elle a moment before answering. "It seems there was a fire here last night. It began in the security room, then quickly spread through the rest of the building. Looks like an electrical fire." His tone was a little accusatory.

Elle tilted her head, confused. "You think I had something to do with this?"

"Well, aside from the glaringly obvious evidence, our server in Odessa shows that you were granted access to the building hours before the fire, long after business hours. It also shows that you fled not long before the fires made the alarms go off." Nathan said with disdain.

Elle shrugged. "I came back to get my cell phone. If you look at your records, it'll show I wasn't here for more than ten minutes."

"If there was video evidence to support your alibi, I'd almost believe you, but the fact that the fire began in the security room kills any chance of that. You're suspended with pay until the investigation's over. If you'll excuse me, I have to explain why my mother owns this property." Nathan said, before turning back to speak with the firemen.

The blond woman huffed and spun on her heel to head back home. It was so like the Petrellis to make you waste your time. Couldn't someone have called her and informed her that she didn't need to show up for work today? Somewhere, she was sure, Angela was laughing her old, wrinkled ass off.

Right before she reached the subway station, someone grabbed her by the arm. Instinct kicked in and Elle grabbed the foreign hand, shocking it. Powers in public was a huge no-no, but she figured she was going to lose her job soon, anyway.

Her assailant knew better, however. "Ouch!" A familiar, yet not-so familiar voice from behind her. "I always forget how tight your grip can be, sweetie."

Confused by the tone of voice he was using, Elle could only guess what was going on. She turned around to face him anyway.

Sylar stood there, rubbing his rapidly healing hand. He watched Elle behind his thick-rimmed glasses, secretly loving the bewilderment on her face. He was dressed in a gray sweater with a dorky argyle pattern across the middle. He had on corduroy pants and loafers with ugly tassels. A tattered crocodile briefcase sat by his feet. Oh God.

"What the Hell are you doing here?!" Elle not-quite screamed.

Sylar pretended to be embarrassed. He gently gripped Elle's shoulders. "I wanted to surprise you at work." He sounded sweet, but Elle knew better. "It being your birthday and all." He pointed at the singed flowers on the ground.

"What are you talking about? I don't do birthdays." Elle spat before descending the subway stairs.

Briefcase in hand, Sylar followed; playing the part of the humiliated boyfriend perfectly. "Please don't walk away like that." He shouted, faking sincerity.

Elle stopped short and waited for Sylar to catch up. "The fire. Did you do it?" She whispered.

"I won't say I didn't." Sylar breathed above her ear.

Elle repressed a shiver. "Why?"

He turned Elle around so she faced him. He hated talking to the back of her head. "I read up on some of their files as well. Turns out your bosses are paying people to track Specials down and detain them."

"What?" Elle was genuinely surprised.

"You didn't know?" Sylar tested her. "They plan on building a huge Level Five. They want you, me, and everyone we bother with in it."

Elle shook her head. "Of course I didn't know. If I did, I'd have done the same thing you did." She clenched her fist, electricity coursing through it.

Sylar covered Elle's charged hand with his own. "Not here." He suggested. "I'm sure they're watching somehow."

Elle looked around for cameras, agents in disguise, anything. Her paranoia began to kick in. "What do we do? I can't go home. God only knows who's waiting to bag and tag me."

"Your partner, probably." Sylar decided, pulling Elle back above the subway.

"Wait, where are we going?" Elle demanded, snatching her hand away.

"Well, we can't go to your place. Might as well go to mine." Sylar rationalized.

"But the files... my clothes?" Elle began to panic.

"I took the liberty of bringing you some of your things." Sylar said, pointing to the briefcase. "You have some racy underwear. I made sure to pack you some."

"I'm sure you enjoyed snooping through my shit."

"Thoroughly." Sylar smirked.

"Don't get your hopes up, pervert." Elle spat. "It'll be a cold day in Hell before you see me in anything less than normal clothes."

=-=-=-=-=-

Sylar's "place" wasn't much more than a small efficiency at a pay-by-the-week motel. Elle couldn't figure out why someone as meticulous as Sylar had been would settle for a tiny room with a leaky ceiling and a dubiously stained rug. He could easily be rooming somewhere a bit more comfortable. It's not like he didn't have an endless supply of gold at his disposal to hock, thanks to her old man.

"So you said you grabbed the files from my apartment?" Elle asked as they entered the room.

Sylar handed her the beaten briefcase. "The files and some clothes are in here for you. We can go out later to pick up toiletries if you need to."

Why was he being so cooperative? Nice, even? He must've wanted something. "Thanks." Elle said, attempting to open the case. When it didn't budge, she looked to Sylar for assistance. "Is this locked?"

"No, but it sticks sometimes." Sylar explained. "Here, let me."

He stood behind Elle, slipping his arms past hers to the briefcase. She watched his careful hands manipulate the stuck clasps on the case's lid. His breathing against her neck caused her to involuntarily arch her back against him. Elle's eyes widened.

"I know what you're up to!" Elle realized, ducking out from under Sylar's still outstretched arm. "Can't you even open a suitcase with out wanting to screw something?" She moved away from him, pressing her back against the wall. Elle really hoped she wasn't blushing. The last thing she needed was Sylar knowing that her body still responded to his.

"If I recall correctly, it was you that began this little game. You asked me, in a really gross way, if I still wanted you." Sylar reminded her about the way she killed Troy Durant.

Elle huffed. "That was just to make it look like you were coming after me. I planned it that way so no one thought it was me."

"Planned." Sylar scoffed. "Right. Forgive me for saying so, Elle, but you are not exactly the best planner."

"Oh, shut up." Elle said, a good comeback escaping her at the moment. She hated that. She knew she'd have a really snappy response later that she'd never get to use.

With the case now open, Elle fished around through the files. Hers wasn't in it. Good, that meant he didn't find it. What she did find were some clothes. None of it was very practical stuff; a ridiculously short skirt she wasn't sure she even fit in anymore, a tight-looking blouse with a plunging neckline, jeans, a beyond faded t-shirt, and the racy underwear Sylar picked out for her. Elle rolled her eyes. "You didn't really grab me much to work with, it's either way too casual or super vixen in here. And I can get more done out of these panties than in them." She held up a tiny red thong.

Sylar shrugged. "It's your underwear."

Elle shook her head and sighed. "Hey, you didn't pack me any pajamas."

"I always thought you'd be a 'sleep naked' kid of girl." Sylar mused.

Elle shook her head. "Not when other people are around. You forget I wore clothes last night. Which reminds me, we better figure out sleeping arrangements."

Sylar swept his arm out, gesturing around the tiny efficiency. One bed, no couch, dirty floor. "There's pretty much only one arrangement."

"I get the bed." Elle spat.

"We both get the bed." Sylar corrected her.

"No way, you sleep on the floor. I bet you'll try to like, sleep-hump me, or something."

"If I were going to 'sleep-hump' you, I'd try it regardless of where I decided to sleep; be it the bed, the floor or the bathtub." Feeling a headache coming on, Sylar removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, if I promise not to try anything, will you relax?"

Elle seemed cautious, but he looked so damn cute and trusting in that dorky sweater. "I'll try."


	9. Whatever's happening on Craphole Island

The afternoon passed quickly enough. Elle killed time watching the On Demand programs on the room's Free Cable TV. She became particularly fixated on "360", making sure to voice how attractive she found Anderson Cooper. "No wonder they call this guy The Silver Fox. What a hottie." Elle said, louder than necessary. She pretended not to notice Sylar shrugging.

Later in the evening, Sylar went out to pick up some of what he called "real Italian food", leaving Elle alone in the motel room to get settled. She took a quick shower and dressed herself in one of Sylar's t-shirts. It was big enough on her, almost coming down to her knees. She tried to shimmy into her jeans, but they were a bit too small. She wondered when she gained so much weight. It seemed like nothing fit her anymore.

When Sylar returned, he found Elle, pants-less, sitting at the edge of the bed in one of his t-shirts, pouting. He set the food on the small table by the door and pulled off his scarf and coat. "What's your problem?"

"I think I'm getting fat." Elle said, her voice laced with tragedy.

Sylar half expected her to raise the back of her hand to her brow. "You're the skinniest girl I've ever seen in real life. You don't even look like you have any body fat at all."

"My jeans don't fit me." Elle sighed. "And neither does that skirt."

Sylar shrugged. "I hadn't noticed." He began to pull food out of the various take-out containers. "Here, I brought some food back. Real lasagna, too; not that Pizza Hut crap." He handed Elle one of the Styrofoam boxes.

=-=-=-=-

After dinner, they sat at the head of the bed, legs stretched out, watching television. Elle insisted on Lost, while Sylar decided the PBS special on the British Monarchy was a far superior program in any and all ways.

"This is boring!" Elle complained for what felt like the twentieth time.

"It's still the opening credits." Sylar countered.

"Who the Hell cares about dumb old England? I can assure you that whatever's happening on Craphole Island is fifty times more entertaining than watching a bunch of pasty old people talk about castles and lawn care and servants." Elle argued.

This was an argument he was destined to lose. "Fine." Sylar spat. He tossed the remote none too gently at Elle.

Elle grinned, changing the channel. "Ahh, this is better." Sawyer had his shirt off again.

They were about half way through the show when Sylar noticed Elle doze off. Her head was tilted to the side a little, her neck exposed. He felt the urge to nuzzle his nose into the spot under her earlobe, where he always felt she smelled so good, but thought better of it and instead shook her awake.

"If you're gonna pass out, then I'm changing the channel." He threatened.

Elle lied herself down on the bed, curling onto her side. She faced away from Sylar, though she tossed him the remote control over her shoulder. "Go ahead, I can't stay awake." She suppressed a yawn as she burrowed under the blankets and turned off the lamp on her side of the bed.

=-=-=-=-

Elle had never been a light sleeper, so it surprised her when she found herself awake at two thirty in the morning with the TV still on and Sylar sprawled over the bed, atop the blankets. She rolled over and shut the TV off, then got out of bed to turn the other light in the room off. She never understood why people left lights on to go to sleep- she usually needed total darkness.

When she climbed back into bed, she pulled the blankets over herself to find Sylar under them as well. "I didn't know you were awake." She said quietly.

"It's okay." He said, sleepily. Elle tried not to imagine how he looked half-asleep. "Do you have enough room?"

Elle shifted so that she was back on her side, facing away from him. She allowed herself some extra room in case she wanted to roll onto her back. "I think so."

Her only response were Sylar's quiet, even breaths. He must've already fallen back to sleep. Elle sighed, wondering how she had gone from being romantically killed by to sharing a bed with her ex-lover. Within minutes, she fell asleep.

=-=-=-=-

When Elle woke up the next morning, she was mildly surprised to find Sylar's arm curled around her with his hand resting just under her breasts. She moved her leg backward in an attempt to wake him up, but all she got was Sylar rolling closer to her. His chest pressed against her back, one leg threw itself over her hip, and his face was buried in her neck.

"Hey." Elle said, trying to wake her sleeping bedmate. She wiggled a little, as she tried to free herself from the cocoon of Sylar's body.

Sylar pressed his hips against Elle's rear. He wasn't asleep after all. "Hey." He breathed against her neck.

Elle shivered, her back arched. When she felt Sylar's hardness against her ass, she tried not to moan and failed. Encouraged, Sylar's hand slid under Elle's borrowed shirt and fondled one of her breasts. "What are you doing?" Elle panted.

"Whatever you want." Sylar's free hand worked at pulling the large shirt from Elle's body. Once he tossed the shirt to the floor, he slid back against her, his bare chest against her bare back. "What _do_ you want?" He kissed the back of her neck, her shoulder.

Elle pushed Sylar aside, onto his back. She made quick work of his pajama pants and boxers. "I want to be able to trust you." She straddled him, her sex lingering over his. She teased him, rubbing herself on his straining erection. All that separated them was a thin pair of lacy white panties.

Sylar moved his hands up Elle's thighs to cup her rear end. He slid the panties down the blonde's legs, then let her pull them the rest of the way off. "You can trust me." He promised.

"I don't believe you." Elle said, she rubbed her warm wetness over Sylar's naked arousal. "Not at all." She then seated herself all the way on his shaft and rocked forward slightly.

When he didn't get the anticipated tingle from his power to indicate Elle was lying, Sylar almost didn't want to follow through... but when Elle was looming over him like that- letting him see her like that, touch her like that, he couldn't resist. They could argue about trust later. Right now all he wanted was her.

Sylar pulled Elle forward, trapping her against his chest with one arm. With his free hand, he grabbed her ass to control the frantic pace Elle was trying to set. "Slow down." He kissed her then, not to further arouse her but convince her. "We have all morning, you know."

Elle sighed into the kiss, letting Sylar's tongue enter her mouth to meet her own. Part of her wanted to fight him, to just speed things up and get rid of this tension that had been building around them. The other part of Elle needed the slow, careful pace Sylar was battling with her to establish. She needed the intense kisses and expert hands roaming her body. She decided then that while she may have needed him, she still didn't trust him. That was enough for the moment.


	10. I'm still cute

Elle lay curled against Sylar's side, sated for the moment. She never figured her serial killing lover for a snuggler, but she supposed everyone had their dirty secrets. After releasing the undeniable sexual tension between them, Elle felt a tremendous weight lift from her body. She felt more relaxed, finally. She could tell Sylar did, too.

One thing still bothered her, though; if Nathan was working with the government to detain Specials, and she was working with Nathan... was she even in any danger? Surely he must've given his family members free passes. Elle couldn't imagine Angela's darling, golden boy locking his own mother up.

If Sylar was right about the senator's intent, Elle was already a prisoner anyway, just in a larger cell. The Petrellis were just using her to find him. If they found out she was with Sylar, what would they do? She'd have outlived her usefulness... She sighed. Things would be far less complicated if that entire stupid family died. Even Peter would be put out of his misery.

"How do you feel about Nathan?" Elle asked suddenly.

Sylar stopped stroking the arm Elle had rested on his chest. "What?"

"Nathan. Senator Petrelli. Your former-almost-possible brother. How do you feel about him?" She sat up a little, resting on her elbow.

He shrugged, noncommittal. "We've never really spoken. I guess I have no opinion on him one way or the other."

"Oh." Elle frowned. So much for getting some insight from Sylar.

"...Why?"

Elle shrugged. "Just wondering."

"Wondering what?" Sylar removed himself from Elle and sat up fully, studying her. She was up to something, he could tell.

"What it must feel like to have such a..." Elle searched for the words. "A plain power."

Sylar's eyes narrowed. Why was she blatantly lying? "...Short of that being a lie, I always wanted to fly as a kid. I think it's a neat power, really."

Elle guffawed. "Oh God, did you just say 'neat'?"

"What's wrong with 'neat'?" Sylar frowned, offended.

Elle rolled onto her stomach, giving Sylar a generous view of her breasts. "It's not 1955, for one thing." She began to pull the sheet down Sylar's stomach.

Sylar snatched the sheet back. There was no way he was giving in to her. Not after she made fun of his vocabulary. And lied. "I like 'neat'."

"I'd just think with all the reading you do, you'd have a better word than 'neat' to describe something you find interesting." Elle began to crawl up Sylar's body, making sure to brush as much of herself against him as possible.

"Well, I could call it 'awesome', but it's not really an awesome ability. If it were, I would have stolen it by now." Sylar rationalized to the naked blond slinking her way into his lap.

"So it's only 'neat'? And that's why Nathan is still alive?" Elle asked before straddling him, impeded momentarily by the sheet between them.

"Yes... It's only 'neat'." Sylar's hands automatically went to toy with Elle's breasts. "And it's also only a matter of time," he added absently.

Elle sighed and grinded herself against him. "Ooh, murder plots make me hot."

"Not as hot as sarcasm makes me." Sylar retorted, bucking against Elle.

"You know what I think we should do?" Elle asked, pulling the sheet back before settling back into Sylar's lap.

Sylar pinched Elle's nipples as he bit her earlobe lightly. "Have some more sex?"

"Besides that..." Elle trailed kisses from his shoulder, past his collar bone, then up his neck and jaw line. His stubble tickled her face. "I think we should kill the Petrellis. Maybe start with Nathan. He's the biggest problem at the moment. Then you could have your 'neat' power."

"Maybe later." Sylar slapped Elle suddenly on the ass. It was none too gentle. "Right now, I'd rather fuck you."

Elle gasped, pretending to be scandalized. "And you used to be so shy... whatever happened to the cute little nerd I fell for?"

"I'm still cute." To emphasize his cuteness, he rubbed his nose against hers. "See? Cute."

"What about Peter?" Elle asked against Sylar's lips.

Sylar jerked his head away from Elle's. "...You think Peter is cute? What's with you and these Petrellis?"

"No, I mean, what do you think of Peter?" Elle grabbed Sylar by the sides of his face and pulled him back to her. She kissed him to reassure him, but could tell it wasn't working. Peter was always such a sensitive subject. It wasn't like she made a big deal about stupid, slutty Maya... okay, maybe not out loud.

"I think I don't want to talk about a guy you had feelings for."

It was Elle's turn to roll her eyes. "Are you jealous?"

"And kissed." Sylar added.

"You are! You're jealous!" Elle accused. She shoved herself off of Sylar's body, then began to get dressed. "This is so silly. I can't believe you're jealous of a guy I never even slept with. I'm only suggesting that you kill him for his power."

Sylar telekinetically stopped Elle from dressing herself, then pulled her back into bed. "I'm not jealous. And I already have Peter's power. I only used it once, it's nothing great."

Elle offered her opinion. "Well, I think it's neat."

"Ugh. Maybe I'll kill him as well, then."

"And don't forget Angela." Elle helpfully added. "She's the most important one."

"Save her for last?" Sylar suggested.

"And I want to help." Elle decided.

"Mmm... Team work makes me hot." Sylar rolled Elle onto her back and assaulted her with kisses. Her barking laugh echoed through the small apartment, loud enough to wake their neighbors. She loved it when a nefarious scheme came together.


	11. What's your problem?

"So," Sylar began quietly. "How do we start this?" He stirred his tea as he people-watched the diner patrons.

Elle shifted in the booth. She loved this diner, what was wrong with her today? Even the comforting smell of coffee brewing was making her feel ill. What a stupid fucking time to catch a cold, she thought. "Well, as soon as I'm allowed back to work, I can spend some time on recon. Learning Golden Boy's schedule and stuff... then you can take it from there."

"Hmm. Dirty work." Sylar thoughtfully sipped his tea. "What about your apartment?"

"What about it?" Elle asked.

"Well, if you are having an eye kept on you, your boss is gonna know you haven't been home the last few nights."

"I'll just say I met a guy." Elle said, nonchalant.

Sylar's eyebrows rose. "You think he'll believe that?"

"Probably not." Elle bit her lip, frustrated. All this thinking was beginning to make her sick. She looked across the table to her co-conspirator. "What do you think I should tell him?"

"Say you took a vacation upstate." Sylar suggested.

"Into farm country? Eww." Elle shot that idea right down. "I hate the smell of cow shit. He'd totally know I'm lying."

"Maybe you went back to Texas for a few days."

Elle's eyes rolled. "Yeah, because I have such great memories there."

"Look, maybe you should come up with your own alibi." Sylar decided. He thought his ideas were fine.

The waitress trotted over to their table and deposited their breakfasts. "Belgian waffles for the young man, poached egg for the lady. Enjoy."

Elle eyed her egg a moment before an unmistakable wave of nausea hit her. "Oh God, excuse me." She bolted out of her seat and nearly knocked over the waitress before making it to the bathroom to throw up.

When Elle returned to the booth, she felt Sylar's almost-concerned gaze on her.

"You feeling okay?" He asked, mouth full of waffle.

Elle shook her head. "I think I'm coming down with something. Probably the stupid flu." She picked up her coffee mug to take a sip, but the smell was too much. "Ugh."

"Maybe you should see a doctor and get some medicine."

"That's it!" Elle said, excited. "I haven't been home because I've been at the hospital, sick."

"There you go." Sylar finished his waffles, then contemplated finishing Elle's eggs. He wasn't about to let food go to waste.

Elle caught him eyeing her breakfast, slid it across the table to him. "Well, if you want, I'll head over to the hospital and contact you once I'm back to work?"

Sylar finished off the eggs quickly, not bothering to answer Elle until he was done. "I'll go with you. I have cab money."

"You're gonna buy me a ride?" Elle reached across the table and petted Sylar on the cheek. "Aww, what a good boyfriend I have."

Sylar ducked his head away, flushing a little. "Don't let word get out." He stood up and left money for the check. "C'mon." He didn't offer his arm, but Elle took it anyway.

=-=-=-

The waiting room was the last place Elle wanted to be. It was full of belly achers and cry babies- the worst of it was the latest addition: a man nearing middle age with little to no hair.

"What's wrong with you?" He asked, trying to make conversation.

"I think I have a stomach flu or something." Elle said. Who shared their symptoms? Was this some weird, new way to pick up people? She looked to Sylar to share a quiet, snarky remark, but he seemed far too engrossed with the six-month old magazine in his hands.

"Oh, I feel way worse than you do." The guy told her. "I've got a head ache, nose congestion..." He paused a moment, dramatically, before adding "...the runs."

Elle was quiet for a moment. She tried not to let this moron bother her. She lasted about ten seconds. "So?"

"So I should get to go before you do." He reasoned.

"You're seriously going to one-up me to try to get in before I do?" Elle asked the stranger, who only nodded. "Huh. I guess chivalry really is dead..." She eyed Sylar purposefully, trying to suggest he do something. She remained ignored.

"Bishop, Eleanor." A nurse announced.

Elle flew to her feet and walked quickly to the nurse. She shot the nosey one-upper a dirty look before heading through the door, Sylar close behind. They were ushered into an examination room and told the doctor would be in shortly. Elle was handed a paper gown and told to strip before the nurse hurried out.

"You heard Nurse Ratchett, Eleanor." Sylar said, eyes hungry.

Elle rolled her eyes. "We're not fucking in a hospital." She toed off her heels, now considerably shorter. "And don't call me that." She turned her back to him and pulled the shirt over her head, then tied the paper gown on. Once decently covered, she shimmied out of her pants and sat on the paper-covered exam table.

"What's wrong with Eleanor?" Sylar prodded. "It's your name, isn't it?"

"Only my mother calls me that." Elle explained. "And she's dead."

"Oh ...sorry." Sylar said quietly.

"Don't be. You didn't kill her." Elle said.

Sylar was about to ask her what she meant by that when the nurse came bustling in with a set of needles and blood pressure cuff. "Is he staying in the room, honey?" she asked Elle.

Elle nodded. "Yeah, it's fine."

The nurse grabbed a needle and a small vial. "Not squeamish around blood, are you, handsome?"

Sylar shook his head, obviously amused. If only she knew.

"Whoah, why are you taking my blood?" Elle asked, alarmed.

"The doctor noticed it's been a while since you've had a proper physical. We just want to check your blood really quick for thyroid problems, STDs, pregnancy... you know, all the good stuff." The nurse winked, distracting Elle as she jabbed the first of three needles into the blonde girl's arm.

"Oww, shit!" Elle screamed, small sparks erupting from her hands. The nurse didn't seem to notice, filled the other two vials of blood, then walked off to perform the tests.

Once the room was empty, Elle sighed. "I hate needles." She rubbed the bruising spot on her arm. "Do you know how long these tests take?"

"Not sure." Sylar said. "Not too long, I hope."

"Yeah," Elle agreed, rubbing her arms. "Hospitals make me so antsy."

"I hadn't noticed." Sylar remarked. He watched as Elle's skin sporadically pulsated a bright blue. "You need to relax or they'll be onto you. It's bad enough you sparked when the nurse jabbed you."

Elle pouted. "Well, it hurt. I can't help what's reactionary." She hopped off the exam table and padded barefoot across the floor to Sylar. "I think I have an idea, though." She grinned as she straddled his lap.

Sylar didn't protest. "What happened to us not fucking in a hospital?" He slid his arms around her.

"We're not." Elle whispered. She gave him a small jolt. "I just want to relieve some tension." Another jolt.

Sylar hissed. "Don't you think the smell of burning flesh will alert someone?" He gripped her ass with his hands, pulled her closer.

"Might." Elle thought. It didn't stop her from grabbing his shoulders and pulling her core against his growing erection. "But I'd feel so much better." She shocked him enough to make him cry out. "Ooh, see?" She pulled her hands from Sylar's shoulders to watch the electrical burns heal under what was left of his shirt's sleeves.

"You're not calming yourself down at all." Sylar murmured before teasing a kiss to the corner of Elle's ever-smirking mouth. She turned her face to try and meet his lips, but Sylar eluded her, brushing his mouth against the opposite corner of Elle's lips. "You're doing the exact opp-" Elle cut him off; fighting his mouth with hers, all tongue and teeth, desperate.

"Oh God, I can't help it," Elle panted against Sylar's neck. Another current rolled through her, not as teasing as the previous ones. She gasped what sounded like "please", a rarity for her.

The nurse chose that moment to barge in, test results in hand. "Um, excuse me..."

Elle leapt from Sylar's lap and perched herself back on the exam table, not even entertaining the thought of making any eye contact with the now scandalized nurse. "I, um, take it my results came back?" Elle ventured.

"Yes, well..." The nurse cleared her throat. "Your tests all came back okay, no problems, no diseases to worry about. However, I must congratulate you."

"Huh?" Elle asked, daring to look the nurse in the face. "For what?"

"You're pregnant!" She beamed.

"Pre-pregnant?" Elle was beyond belief. "I'm having a baby?"

The nurse handed her the discharge papers and a copy of the test results. "Good luck." She handed Elle another paper, a prescription for prenatal vitamins. "Discharge is just down the hall. Congratulations again!"

Sylar stood up the second the nurse left the room. "Contact me when you find out what you need to."

Elle felt Sylar's eyes on her as she put her clothes back on. Something felt wrong. "What's your problem? This is kind of a big deal." She carded her fingers through her hair and toed on her shoes. "I mean, I know I'm a little surprised, scared even... but why are you-"

He cut her off. "I killed you. I killed your father. I'll kill more people. How is that not a problem? Normal people wouldn't-" He walked briskly through the building, out to the street.

Elle followed, two steps of hers matching Sylar's one. Being so short had severe disadvantages. Especially when one's trying to catch up with a much taller individual.

"We're not exactly normal, are we?" It was Elle's turn to cut him off. "We met under really shitty circumstances, we've done fucked up things to each other... you may have killed my father, but after getting my memories back, after reading my file! Oh God, the things my dad subjected me to. I would have killed the fucker myself if you hadn't. As for killing me? Well, I killed you first."

Sylar stopped, his back to her. "I let you." He corrected her. "To help you."

"I did the same thing!" Elle shouted as the streetlamp above her head burnt itself out. "I let you kill me! Why do you think I didn't fight back? When you decided you didn't want to be with me, you were all I had... if I didn't have you, I had nothing worth being-" A wild current rolled through her tiny body, striking an out of service taxi. The taxi started, confusing its napping driver. "Fuck... you know what I'm trying to say."

"I know." Sylar quietly said, turning around. "But no matter your feelings, you can't bring a child into this life, Elle. You can't even be responsible for yourself, how can you be held responsible for someone else?"

Elle narrowed her eyes. "You don't want me to have this baby."

"What?"

"Ohh, don't you 'what?' me!" Elle spat. "You're afraid I'm going to try and tie you down with it. You don't want to get attached to someone who'll rely on you again. You don't want baggage." Elle gathered a growing ball of electricity in her hands. "Well, don't kill me to get your point across this time." She could care less that people were watching.

"Elle, calm down." Sylar ordered. "I'm not going to-"

"I mean it!" She blasted him against the brick wall of the shoddy apartment building. "If you try to kill me or this baby, so help me God..." She shocked him again to emphasize her point. "I'm going back home tonight. You won't need to worry about having any damaged goods around to cramp your fucking style." She hailed a taxi and headed to her apartment. She didn't turn around to see if he was watching her leave. She didn't want to know.


	12. I killed him myself

It was seven months before Elle brought in her spare key she'd left in the mailbox for Sylar. She set it there the day she took the cab back to her apartment, alone. Elle quietly hoped Sylar would magically not be upset with her and just pop back up to make everything okay again. After seven months, she decided she knew better.

"Stupid," she scolded herself. "He doesn't want to come back to you." She hung the key on the key ring holder by the door and shocked the entire shelf, causing it to fall and splinter on the floor. "Even if he did, he wouldn't need a key."

Elle had been figuring out pregnancy on her own. No books, no videos. No help. Once she was allowed back to work, she decided it wise to keep her maternity a secret. The last thing she needed was Peter up her ass, accusing her of being a murderer's groupie. By the time she would start showing, Elle figured she wouldn't be employed by any Petrelli ever again since there simply wouldn't _be_ any. Luckily for Elle, she was so small no one knew her secret, even as close as she was to her due date. She continued to wear loose clothing in layers, claiming her change in style as "letting herself go a little bit".

Once her suspension was lifted, Elle was reassigned to a desk job in Peter's department. She theorized that Nathan didn't think Bennet was doing a good job watching her, what with being all over Danko's assorted tasks. Peter was closer and he had powers, effective ones siphoned for the purpose of dealing with Elle. Nathan was smarter than he acted, Elle decided.

She kept with the plan she and Sylar devised months before- monitoring Nathan's every move while playing the model employee. She avoided Noah Bennet at all costs, while trying to stay on Peter's good side. Peter recently had been introduced to a water wielder specifically to keep Elle in check. Elle was terrified of water and Peter used it to his advantage as much as he could.

While she was getting ready for work one morning, Elle turned the TV on to listen to the news for background noise. She heard, rather than saw Emile Danko patting himself on the back for having detained another "dangerous Special". It wasn't until Elle heard Danko drop the Special in question's name that she started to pay attention.

"Gabriel Gray, also known as the notorious serial killer Sylar." Danko bragged. "I killed him myself while attempting to detain him." Beside Danko, Sylar's face appeared. He looked like Gabriel. Neatly combed hair, thrift store sweater, and the darkest eyes Elle had ever seen hidden behind a pair of thick-framed glasses.

He looked so smug, Elle thought while she blinked back tears. All her plans were ruined. How was she supposed to escape the company without help? She felt desperate, trapped. She needed to get out of there. With Sylar dead, the Petrellis no longer had a need to keep Elle around as bait. She was sure they'd send Danko to "detain" her next.

"Fuck," Elle cursed. She moved as quickly as her belly would allow to her bedroom closet. She pulled out some suitcases and began to pack frantically. After setting things out in the living room, Elle filled one suitcase with clothes for herself, and began packing a second suitcase with baby items. She was sure she'd have the baby before she could even entertain the thought of finding a permanent place to hide.

Elle was half done with the second suitcase when an authoritative knock on her door snapped her from her preparations. Not wanting to draw any suspicion, Elle immediately answered the door.

Noah Bennet stood there, smirking. "Good evening, Elle." He stepped right past her and into the small apartment. He appeared to be looking for something.

"What do you want, Noah? It's late and I have to get to bed, soon." Elle said, hoping he wouldn't venture into the living room.

"I just came by to see how my old partner is doing." He said. "I feel like you've been avoiding me, Elle."

Elle scoffed. "Unlike you, my work keeps me busy. I don't get to go on field trips with my boyfriend, looking for people to capture or kill."

Bennet made a face. "Danko and I are doing this to protect everyone."

"From people like me." Elle finished. "People like Peter. Like _Claire_."

"How's the baby?" Noah asked, changing from one sensitive subject to another.

"Baby?" Elle asked. "A girl gains a couple pounds and you instantly think her pregnant? I thought you had class, Glasses."

Noah advanced on her. "We both know you're lying."

Elle placed her hands on her hips. Her belly peeked out from under her shirt. "You're being awfully rude to me." Her hands sparked blue for a moment. "And in my own house, too." She backed away from Noah, toward the living room.

"How far along are you, Elle?" Noah asked, indicating the swell in Elle's stomach. "Six months? Seven?"

"I think it's time for you to go home, Bennet." Elle suggested, holding her ground at the threshold to the living room.

Being at the height advantage, Bennet peered over Elle's head and shook his head. "Looks more like it's time for _you_ to go." He eyed Elle suspiciously. "What's with the suitcases?"

"None of your business." Elle bit out. "Don't let the door hit you on the ass on your way out."

"And the baby clothes?" Bennet pressed.

"Look, I've asked you nicely to leave." Elle said coldly. She grabbed Bennet around the neck and squeezed as hard as she could, all the while filling his struggling body with electricity. When she couldn't stand the smell of burning human flesh any longer, she stopped.

Noah Bennet's body hit the floor with an all-too loud thud. His glasses broke in half as his face seemed to bounce in slow motion against the laminated wood floor. Elle felt the bile rise in her throat as the odor of badly charred meat permeated through the room.

Elle dropped to her knees and began to panic. She crawled over to Bennet's body, sizing him up, trying to decide how to dispose of it. She pulled her sweater off over her blouse and went to place it over Bennet's face when his eyes snapped open.

They were the darkest brown Elle had ever seen.


	13. I feel disgusting

**A/N: Thanks so much for all the kind words. I can't believe this monster fic is finally winding down. Two chapters to go!**

Elle sat back on the floor, stunned. She was relieved, but tried not to show it too much. "Nice power. Where'd you pick that one up?"

Bennet sat up while his skin regenerated, the charred bits falling to the floor. His usually blue eyes were still that hauntingly familiar brown. "It was a gift from Danko" Bennet told her in Sylar's voice.

"Fucking Danko!?" Elle shot to her feet. "He _hates _us!" She watched in morbid fascination as Bennet's face and body contorted into Sylar's. "What the Hell are you doing palling around with him, anyway?"

Sylar stood, facing Elle. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend."

Elle rolled her eyes. It was not the time for a philosophy lesson. "Hey, I'm not exactly crazy about Bennet either, but teaming up with Danko?"

"After I destroy Bennet, Danko is next." Sylar explained.

Elle folded her arms and huffed. "This idea is stupid. It's going to get everyone captured and killed if you screw it up."

Sylar didn't appear worried. "Danko is too cocky to notice my motives. I told him I was doing this with him so I'd get powers."

"And you're _not_?" Elle asked skeptically.

"Well, it's certainly a nice perk." Sylar replied.

Elle was quiet a moment before admitting "...I really thought you were dead."

"All a part of the plan." Sylar told her with a smirk.

Elle nodded. OF course it was all planned. She wondered how far ahead he planned things. "So what comes next?"

"You and "Bennet" are going to have another affair. Sandra finds out about this one, you decide how." He reveled in Elle's grin at her inclusion. "I want to drive Bennet to kill Danko. The best way to get this to happen is for "Danko" to ruin Bennet's personal life. I'll be playing Danko as well."

"And if Bennet kills you while you're Danko?" Elle asked. "Or the other way around?"

Sylar shrugged. "Then I revive and kill them anyway. I just want it to look like one kills the other."

"What happens when either of them suspect the role you're playing is actually you?" Elle liked where this was going, but needed to hear all worst case scenarios.

"Bennet already thinks Sylar is dead. As for Danko, he's expecting Bennet to come after him at this point. He'd kill him face to face, he's not much of a "Shoot you in the back" type."

Elle wasn't convinced. "You hope."

Sylar shook his head. He had plenty of time already with Danko. He knew the man inside and out. "I _know_."

"Huh. Sounds like you have it all figured out." Elle let it be for the moment. When she felt the baby move, she padded to the kitchen to prepare herself something to eat. She felt like she was hungry all the time lately. The baby was a real vacuum for food. "...I know it's late and all, but have you eaten? I have some leftovers that I need to get rid of. And it'd be nice to-"

Sylar was on her in an instant. He spun her around and kissed her hungrily. He pulled Elle's smaller body against his, his large hands rubbing possessively over her baby bump. "You wear this well." He honestly meant it. Sylar never really found pregnant women very attractive, but with Elle looking as she did- carrying _his_ baby- something sparked in him. He felt protective of the blond woman, even more so for what she carried inside her. Sylar suddenly realized he had in front of him what he craved more than any power: his own _real_ family.

Elle turned her face away from Sylar's, embarrassed. "I feel disgusting." None of her clothes fit anymore, she was sick every morning, and every bra she owned came from the maternity section at Wal-Mart. She'd never felt less attractive in her life.

"Don't." Sylar ran his hands up Elle's widened hips, past her rounded stomach to her swollen breasts. "I think you look amazing." He studied her flushed face before kissing her again. "Did you miss me?" he asked, lifting her onto the kitchen's counter. He kissed Elle's neck, then her shoulder while he hiked her dress up.

It had been so long for Elle, and she missed him too much- though she hated to admit it. "No," she sighed against his lips.

Sylar knelt between Elle's legs and parted her thighs. White cotton panties were a total one-eighty from the racy underwear Elle usually wore, but he didn't seem bothered. He pushed the fabric aside and rubbed his thumb against Elle's clit. "Liar," he breathed against her skin before replacing his thumb with his tongue.

Elle couldn't help but toss her head back and gasp. She'd almost forgotten how good he felt. She spread her legs wider while she stroked Sylar's dark hair, all the while enjoying his oral attentions. She then had an idea. "Ohh, hey wait-" she pulled Sylar's face away from her body for a moment. "I thought I was supposed to be having an affair with Bennet..."

"Ah yes." Sylar agreed before shifting again into the bespectacled man.

Elle hopped off the kitchen's counter and went to her bedroom, Sylar not far behind. She began to rummage through her closet until she found what she needed. "Here we go," she said, tossing a digital camera at Sylar's head.

The camera froze inches from his face. He smirked with Bennet's mouth when he reached up to grab it. "Get on the bed," he instructed.


	14. It's still you We're still yours

"God," Elle groaned. She shifted on her knees, her discomfort obvious. "I hope you never need to shift into him ever again." She looked up at Sylar, seated in the large leather chair in the otherwise sparsely furnished apartment. "Do you think this is enough?"

"After your little performance with Noah Bennet gets viewed by the wife, I'm sure it'll be more than enough." Sylar answered, watching Elle edit the video on her laptop. "Not only will she bear witness to her husband's infidelity... I'm sure it'll rattle her to see him be such a creative lover."

Elle rolled her eyes. "People tie each other up during sex all the time. You make it sound like some grand adventure."

Sylar got out of the chair, then crawled across the floor to Elle. He watched her finish editing Bennet's alleged affair, presented by Danko. "You don't mind that people are going to see you having sex on camera?"

Elle shrugged. "I'm not going to see any of these people again." She closed the laptop and stretched her arms over her head, exposing her pregnant belly. "You won't mind people seeing another dude sexing up your baby momma?"

"I'll mind." Sylar promised her.

Elle snickered before pulling his head into her lap. "Real as it looks, it's still you." She took one of his hands and placed it on her stomach. "And we're still yours."

He smiled and pressed a kiss to Elle's stomach. "Good."

"So what's next?" Elle asked, carding her hands through Sylar's thick hair.

"We send Mama Bennet the movie you and 'Bennet' made, effectively destroying her marriage. It'll be shipped from Danko's address. Bennet will no doubt piece these things together and then go after Danko." Sylar predicted. "As they keep each other busy, you and I get to disappear."

"I can't wait," Elle said, her statement punctuated by a kick from the baby against Sylar's head.

"Neither can he." Sylar agreed.

Almost a month went by before Elle and Sylar decided enough time had passed. It was time to move. Going by car was too risky; they would be too easy to track. Flying was certainly out of the question for Elle. So, they decided to take a train out of town before deciding where to go.

"Are you sure you have everything you need?" Sylar asked as they locked the door to Elle's apartment.

Elle rolled her eyes. Sometimes she felt like he was the one having the baby. "You double checked everything at least three times. Yes. I have everything I need." She held up two large suitcases.

"Should you be carrying heavy objects, though?"

Elle swung the suitcases back and forth. "They're not heavy. It's all just clothes and baby stuff anyway."

Sylar gave her a look. "Remember, you're supposed to be pretending to go on vacation."

"I know, I know." Elle said. "That's the story I gave Peter anyway." She looked ready for a vacation. Elle wore a roomy, red dress that was light enough and perfect for summertime. She looked like she was traveling somewhere even warmer. "You better change before we get outside. You're dead, remember?"

As handy an ability as shape shifting was, it was still a pain in the ass. It really hurt to rearrange his bone structure and musculature every time he left the house, but Sylar supposed it was necessary for the time being. He was shorter now, with a paler complexion. His hair was a lighter brown color and he changed his eyes to a deep green. "Is this better?" Sylar had been changing into this guy for a month now- someone he had walked into on the subway. Elle found him pleasing enough, anyway.

They walked the short distance to the subway station, stopping for only a minute when Elle decided she needed four tacos loaded with everything the vendor could manage to fit in them. Sylar watched with mild shock as the tiny blond ate all four without pause. Elle always had a big appetite to begin with, but this was almost frightening.

Elle was half way onto the train with Sylar right behind her when the entire station was filled with men in SWAT gear. "What the fuck?" Elle managed to curse before Peter cut through the agents. He looked pretty mad. "Peter, what's going on?"

Peter shook his head. "Don't play stupid with me, Elle." He raised his arm and a wave of water rushed from behind him. When Peter opened his palm the water remained behind him, as if it were waiting to crash against the train. "I know what you're up to, so don't try anything funny." Peter then looked to Sylar. "And you can quit pretending, too." Peter snapped his fingers and one of the agents in black shot him.

Elle screamed as she watched Sylar fall to the ground, blood spraying from the hole in his chest. She threw her baggage to the ground and filled the platform with electricity. The lights in the tunnel sparked before blowing themselves out, one by one. Eased by her unruly power's reliance on her unstable moods, Elle managed to electrocute every SWAT agent in the tunnel. She took her eyes off of Peter for a moment to check on Sylar, who had by then shifted back into his own skin. He remained unconscious. "You're going to regret this." Elle promised Peter before sending a bolt of blinding blue light at him.

Peter closed his fist and sent the wave he summoned directly at Elle. Movement hindered by her swollen belly, Elle wasn't quick enough to get out of its way. In a panic, her hands sparked before the wave hit her. Peter watched with satisfaction as Elle fell to the ground, hands wrapped around her stomach. He opened his cell phone to call his brother. "Nate." He paused. "I got them." He flipped his phone shut as he bent over Elle's prone form. "Idiot," he whispered, finally noting her pregnancy.

"I believe the idiot is you." Sylar said, sitting up. Before Peter could react, Sylar kicked his legs out from under him. Peter fell, hitting the hard cement with the back of his head. He looked up at Sylar, dazed from his fall. "I think it's about time we ended this stupid cat and mouse game, don't you?" Sylar asked the man he considered at one time his brother. He raised his hand and began to slice Peter's head open.

"I don't think so." Sylar heard before being slammed against. He found himself being held against Nathan Petrelli, the back of his own head destined to meet some kind of sharp object. "This ends today." Nathan promised as he flew toward the corner of a brick wall, determined to destroy the back of Sylar's head.

Hoping it would work, Sylar used his telekinesis to reverse his and Nathan's positions. He'd never used his own power against himself and was relieved when he found himself pushing Nathan against the corner of the wall. Sylar grabbed a hold of the Senator's head while keeping himself levitated with his ability. He slammed Nathan's head in the corner of the bricks until he saw the other man's eyes roll into the back of what was left of his head.

Sylar sank to the platform, watching with amusement as the bystanders scattered, leaving the tunnel almost empty. He noted the unfinished job on Peter's skull. A cut ran across the center of Peter's forehead, down the middle of his nose, and under his left eye. Oddly, Sylar didn't feel the need to satiate his hunger and complete his botched incision. Instead he knelt by Elle, pleasantly surprised to find her awake.

"Are you alright?" He asked, immediately feeling stupid. Of course she wasn't.

"I'll live," Elle guessed.

"The baby?"

"Everything feels okay." Elle said, rubbing her stomach fondly. "I felt this weird clinging feeling when the water hit me..." she tried to explain. "Almost like it came from in here."

"Clinging?" Sylar was intrigued.

"Yeah." Elle confirmed. "Like something wrapped itself around me. Do you think it was-"

Sylar held his hand up and shook his head. "Let's not worry about that right now." He didn't even want to entertain the thought that his child had manifested in the womb.


	15. I think we should upgrade

**Two updates in one night?? I just wanna throw in, thanks everyone for the comments and feedback. It's certainly the best part of writing fanfiction. I'm glad people enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it. And now... the final chapter!**

"I've always liked Michael."

"Ehh," Elle protested. "One angel name is enough for our family."

"What do you suggest? Robert?"

"Of course not." Elle tore her eyes from her perfect baby boy to glare at her boyfriend for a moment. "I don't even know what to call him," she admitted with a sigh.

"Well, he needs a name, Elle. It's been a month already."

"I know that, Gabriel." Elle spat.

She was pacing the nursery of their tiny Arizona home. They obtained the house when the owners decided to take an extended vacation and rent it out... or so they told the neighbors. They had settled in shortly after the subway fiasco. Gabriel- no longer using his Sylar alias, had found work at a small watch repair shop in town while Elle stayed at home with their nameless baby.

Gabriel opened his mouth to suggest another name when the door to the nursery was kicked in. Neither parent was surprised to see a fuming Noah Bennet in the doorway.

"You two." Bennet spat viciously. "You took everything from me." He had his gun trained on Elle, knowing full well he couldn't kill Gabriel at this particular angle. The crying baby tore his attention long enough for Gabriel to wrestle the gun out of his hands.

Gabriel had Bennet pinned to the floor, unaided by his telekinesis. "Get the baby out of here!" He shouted to Elle, who wasted no time in doing just that.

Bennet kicked Gabriel off of himself before making a successful grab for his gun. "Thanks to you, my wife left. Took my boy with her. Claire wants nothing to do with me... even that stupid fucking dog they left behind hates me." He hastily aimed and shot Gabriel in the shoulder, then the chest before running out after Elle.

Elle was almost all the way up the stairs when Bennet began to fire at her. She volleyed a few bolts of electricity at him over the railing while making a break for the bathroom- the only locking door on the second floor. She kept the screaming infant close to her body, hoping to calm him down. She backed herself against the window, wondering if she could make the jump with the baby in her arms.

Bennet pounded against the door, demanding entry. "What's wrong, Elle? Don't enjoy having your family threatened?" He kicked a hole in the lowest panel on the door, sending splinters across the bathroom tiles.

Elle tried to zap Bennet's leg, but it was too hard to aim while holding the baby still. She'd rather miss Bennet than drop her squirming, panicky son. "Leave us alone!" She shouted.

There was a gunshot, then the doorknob fell off. Bennet managed to kick open the door to find Elle and the baby huddled helplessly in the corner by the window. "Well, isn't this a pathetic sight?" He asked. He didn't bother waiting for a response; he only took aim at Elle again and pulled the trigger.

Elle turned her back to Bennet, shielding her son. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the bullet to pierce her. When the gunshot rang out, she instantly felt that same clinging feeling she experienced in the subway. She only opened her eyes when she heard Bennet make a choking noise before hitting the floor.

When Elle turned around, she saw Bennet sprawled across the bathroom floor, face first in a growing pool of his own blood. She looked from the body, to the baby, then back to the body. "Did you do this, baby?" She asked her son, who only grabbed for her hair in response.

The confusing moment was cut short when a breathless Gabriel appeared in the doorway, bloodied shirt, but otherwise unharmed. "You got him?" He panted, indicating Bennet's body.

Elle shook her head. "No. I think the baby did."

"Huh." Gabriel helped Elle up and took his son into his arms. "How'd he manage that?"

Elle caressed the baby's head while she explained. "I think he made some kinda armor or something. When Bennet shot at us, the bullet seemed to bounce off of us and hit Bennet instead. It felt like when Peter tried to drown me. That same feeling, like something was wrapping around me, protecting me."

"Like a force field?" Gabriel wondered.

Elle shrugged. "I guess so. This is the second time he's saved my life." She tickled the baby's feet. "What a good boy!"

Gabriel looked from the baby down to Bennet's body. "Your first kill," he congratulated his son, showing the baby his handiwork. "Definitely my boy."

Elle gasped. "That's it!" She clapped her hands together and pointed to Bennet's body. "We can call him Noah!"

Gabriel seemed to consider it. "Noah Gray..."

Elle nodded. "It's perfect."

"I like it." Gabriel agreed.

Elle moved to kiss the baby when her foot slid in Bennet's blood. "Ohh, gross."

Gabriel looked down. "Yeah."

"What are we gonna do about..." Elle finished by nodded at Bennet's body.

"Leave him." He answered. "I think it's time to upgrade anyway."

"Upgrade to what?" Elle wondered aloud.

"You heard him yourself." Gabriel said, shifting little Noah's weight in his arms. "Wife left, took the kids. He's got a huge empty house in Costa Verde."

Elle nodded. "I do like that house..."

"Lots of bedrooms." Gabriel suggested.

Elle simpered. "Why, Mr. Gray, are you suggesting what I think you are?"

"Let's move to California."


End file.
